


Elusive Time

by devilinthedetails



Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Aunt and Nephew - Freeform, Courage, Family, Father and Son, Gen, Love, Sickness, Sorrow, Time - Freeform, dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 00:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18063458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: Time is elusive for the Naxen family as Lianne nears the end of her life.





	Elusive Time

Elusive Time

“How is Aunt Lianne?” Gary glanced up from his pile of parchment as his father entered his study, returning from another visit to the dying queen’s bedside. He didn’t want to hear the answer because he knew it would be a grim one yet he felt duty and blood bound to ask. He was grateful for the single-minded focus others confused with intelligence that he was certain was only a confidence he could solve any problem he attacked with sufficient dogged determination. It riveted his attention to problems—trade deficits with Tyra and unsatisfactory crop yields in the dry hill country—he could resolve rather than ones like his aunt’s daily deterioration and Duke Roger’s resurrection that he couldn’t. 

“Sickly.” Father’s lips were thin—almost disapproving, Gary thought with an internal wince at a thousand remembered lectures—as he sat in the chair across the desk from Gary. “She keeps asking to see you, son.” 

“I keep meaning to visit,” Gary said more because he wanted to believe this was true than because it was. He shifted his pile of parchment, emphasizing its size, so his father wouldn’t suspect it was an excuse rather than a duty he had assumed out of filial piety so his father might spend more time beside his dying aunt’s bedside. “It’s just the parchment doesn’t stop accumulating, and time is elusive.” 

“Yes, time is elusive.” A flicker of sorrow flashed across Father’s usually stoic face, and Gary berated himself for a phrasing that had inadvertently reminded his father of death. “But it is best to track it down before it runs out forever.” 

“I know I’ll die one day.” The sardonic words streamed from Gary’s too sharp tongue before he could halt them. He had always hated and feared the idea that he would ceased to be—that one day he would stop thinking, breathing, and being. Fear honed his sarcasm. “Thank you for the uplifting reminder, though.” 

“I wasn’t talking about you.” Father’s glare was so fierce Gary didn’t doubt he was experiencing the strong temptation to cuff Gary’s ear as he had when Gary was an impertinent child. “If you stop thinking selfishly and remove your head from your hindquarters, I have faith you’ll be able to figure out to whom I’m referring.” 

“I’ll go see Aunt Lianne tonight, I promise.” Gary dropped his gaze because he did know to whom his father was referring. 

“Good.” Father reached out to flip over the sand-filled hourglass Gary used to monitor and budget how much time he devoted to solving each of the realm’s myriad problems. “When an hourglass runs out of sand, you can’t always turn it over and start again.” 

“I will have to turn that hourglass over and start again, thanks to you,” muttered Gary before his father’s sternest expression made him say what he knew his father wanted to hear. “First I’ll go visit Aunt Lianne, though, since you’ve ruined my timekeeping.” 

“Your aunt will be pleased.” Father gave the short nod that indicated he was at last satisfied with Gary’s concession. “We must be brave for her, son.” 

“I can’t be as brave as you, Father.” It hurt like a broken bone to admit it aloud but Gary felt that old familiar fear of inadequacy—that nauseating sense he would forever fail to live up to his father’s insurmountable legacy—rising like burning bile in his throat. Compared to his heroic father, he was nothing but a cringing coward. 

“I’ve observed that the smartest people aren’t enamored of their own intelligence but are more acutely aware of how much they don’t know.” Father’s fingers tapped across the top of his cane. 

“Yes, the people who think they know everything are the windbags I try to avoid at parties,” commented Gary, wondering what twist his father’s mind had taken now. 

“I believe a similar principle applies to bravery.” Father’s cane hit the floor for emphasis. “The bravest men are often unaware of their own courage.” 

“I’ll try to be brave for Aunt Lianne.” Gary nodded, hoping he could be strong as his father when he saw his aunt’s figure wrapped in her thick blankets on her sickbed. 

He half-expected his father to make a tart remark about how he needed to do, not try, but instead Father answered almost mildly, “That’s all your aunt needs from you.” 

When Gary, true to his word, went to visit Aunt Lianne, sitting on her bedside at her patted invitation, he had to fight the urge to flinch from her horrifying, skeletal boniness as she flung her frail arms around him, rasping, “How good it is to see you, nephew.” 

“Those flowers are beautiful.” Gary gestured at the vase of orange, yellow, and red blossoms on her nightstand—flowers he couldn’t name but he was sure she could—as her weak arms released him. 

“Aren’t they?” Aunt Lianne gave a grin faint as fading memory. “Lady Cythera plucked them for me from the gardens.” 

“That was kind of her.” Gary didn’t mention he had seen Lady Cythera picking the flowers for his aunt in the palace gardens and seized the opportunity to to bestow a gift in Naxen colors on his sweetheart. 

“Lady Cythera is a kind, clever, and beautiful lady, a woman more precious than diamonds.” Aunt Lianne fingered the diamond ring she had worn since her wedding day, a silver tear shining on her cheek. “Diamonds are forever, you see, but women are not. Marry her while you can, nephew. Don’t let her slip from your grasp like time.” 

“I won’t.” Gary swallowed a lump that had swelled in his throat. He had avoided proposing to Lady Cythera because it had felt disrespectful of his aunt to make marriage plans while she was dying. Now he realized she wanted to watch him wed Lady Cythera before she left for the Peaceful Realms. “I’ll speak to Father and Lady Cythera about marriage.” 

“Promise me you will”—Aunt Lianne clutched his wrist with a shaking hand—“and promise me you’ll treasure every moment with Lady Cythera. That’s what love is, treasuring every moment with someone.” 

“I always treasure my time with the dear Lady Cythera,” Gary assured her, thinking that saying he treasured time with Lady Cythera was as indisputable a truth as the fact that he was a living, breathing being with a heart beating in his chest. A heart that tended to beat faster when Lady Cythera was near. 

“I’m glad.” Aunt Lianne squeezed his wrist gently. “I only wish my son would find such love too. I had hoped that Princess Josiane would be the one for him, but he seems to have lost interest in her, I’m afraid.” 

“He will find love.” Gary kissed her cold cheek. “He just has to meet many court ladies first.” 

“Your wit is wicked as ever.” Aunt Lianne’s tone was reproving but there was finally a sparkle of humor rather than sorrow in her doe brown eyes, and that was all Gary wanted or needed to see.


End file.
